


A Little Weakness

by Lyrstzha



Category: Firefly, Torchwood
Genre: Crossover, Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-24
Updated: 2008-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:50:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrstzha/pseuds/Lyrstzha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack is, of course, flirting with Simon.  There's just a thing about Captains and Doctors, you know?  Also implied Simon/Mal and Jack/Doctor UST.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Weakness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Itinerant_vae](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Itinerant_vae).



"Hey, handsome. Captain Jack Harness, nice to meet you," the corpse murmured as Simon bent over it. "Not that cortical electrodes don't have a nice kick to them and all, but that's not really necessary."

Simon stumbled backwards in shock, his jaw gaping and the aforementioned cortical electrodes dangling precariously from his nerveless fingers. "You were dead!" he managed after a moment. While he'd certainly been hoping to resuscitate the man, he definitely hadn't expected spontaneous—not to mention _cheerful_—revival before he'd even had a chance to start working.

Jack grinned at him blindingly, white teeth flashing. "And now I'm feeling much better." He raised an eyebrow and winked suggestively. "But if you'd like to try a little mouth-to-mouth, just to be sure, I wouldn't say no."

"Are you..." And Simon ground to a halt there as _serious? flirting? crazy?_ all jockeyed for position on his tongue. "...in any pain?" he finally finished, just a bit primly. He bent down again, carefully clinical fingers seeking Jack's pulse, which beat against his touch with a strong, steady rhythm.

Jack chuckled a bit. "Well. Nothing a good full-body massage wouldn't cure."

"You've sustained recent cranial trauma, haven't you?" Simon peered at the man's pupils assessingly.

"Oh, probably." Jack rolled up from the ground to a sitting position and stretched his neck to either side. "Right as rain now, though. Fit as a fiddle and ready for love, as they say."

Simon blinked, and decided that it must be one of those homespun Rim world expressions. Really, a fiddle? "It's not uncommon for patients to enter a state of shock that prevents them from feeling the pain of their injuries," he told Jack firmly. He laid an insistent hand on Jack's shoulder to keep him from standing up. "As much as I trust obscure instrument metaphors," he added in a dry tone, "I don't think you should be moving around just yet. I need to check you for internal injuries."

Jack laughed outright at that, a full, rich laugh that seemed to fill up the infirmary and wrap around Simon like a blanket. His smile deepened from blinding to something a little warmer and more personal, but still dazzling nonetheless. "Sounds promising, Doc. What exactly did you have in mind?"

Simon flushed a bit, but refused to remove his restraining hand. "Are you always this..." he waved his free hand vaguely, "Or is it a symptom I should note?"

Jack arched an eyebrow, and something Simon could not interpret crossed his face and settled into his eyes; it flavored his smile, but did not dislodge it. "Nothing to be concerned about," he said softly. "I just have a little weakness for doctors."

"I see," answered Simon, though he wasn't entirely sure he did.

Jack winked at Simon once again, and slid a hand up to brush his fingers over Simon's where they rested on his shoulder. "I don't suppose _you've_ got a little weakness for Captains, do you?"

And he laughed that swelling, delighted, room-permeating laugh again as Simon blushed brightly all the way to the roots of his hair.


End file.
